


Massage Therapy

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I'm Sorry, M/M, Masseur Castiel, One Shot, what am I doing with my life, you can see the rating you know what's in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're too tense," Sam said. "Get a massage or something. I work at the desk, I'll get you in for free."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage Therapy

"You're too tense," Sam said. "Get a massage or something. I work at the desk, I'll get you in for free."

Dean accepted the invitation over the phone, hitting the off button once Sam had set up a date and time. Dean rubbed at one of his shoulder experimentally, finding it tight and painful to touch. Sam had been right; just from talking over the phone, his brother had known that Dean was  _way_ more stressed than a normal human, what with the business drought at the auto shop and still being out of the dating game. It wasn't like Dean ] _wanted_ to be stuck at home most nights instead of getting laid, but he felt like he was getting out of his prime. Sam had yelled at him that he was just twenty-seven from the other side of the receiver when Dean told him that. 

The "massage therapy session" was set up for a Thursday at seven PM. The time seemed a little late to Dean, but he was just kind of excited to finally get someone else's hands on him. With oils and everything.  _Damn. It HAS been awhile if you're getting excited for a fucking massage._  

Sam had told him to dress light, considering that he'd be taking most (if not all) of it off. He said it depended on who he got. Hopefully a girl, but Dean didn't mind if it was a guy. Whether broad, calloused hands or slender French-tipped fingers were touching him, he just wanted to work out some of the knots in his shoulders. He could barely move without aching, which was problematic; his job was about moving and fixing cars, after all. Being tense and aching made being a mechanic a hell of a lot harder. So there he was, in front of a  _Massage Therapy_ building.

He walked in, noticing mostly men in suits and a few businesswomen in the waiting room. Sam was sitting at the front desk, sorting paperwork between setting up clients. He was only working the job for extra money - Sam was probably smarter than most of the people in the room.

"Hey! You showed up," Sam smiled when he saw his brother, reaching behind the desk to hand him a robe and a towel. "You're gonna be working with Cas. He's one of our best, so don't be an ass to him. He can kick you out if he wants to, so-"

"Sam, do you think I'm  _that_ rude?"

"I've known you since I was born, Dean. I know that you're a complete jackass, but don't be to this guy. He barely agreed to do it for free. Just don't piss him off, okay?"

"Fine, fine. Guy got anger issues or something?"

"He's a little on the odd side. Just don't use too many metaphors."

"Wha-"

Sam pointed to the door, giving his brother a pointed look. "Go."

Dean huffed for a second before walking through the door, seeing a long line of doors on either side. The building looked like it was just hallways with tiny rooms packed in. A large whiteboard hung in front of him, various arrows directing Dean to  _Castiel Novak, Masseur - Room 401._ The numbering system seemed to be backwards, so Castiel's room was at the end of the hallway instead of up in front.  Dean walked down the carpeted floors, scents of varying oils clinging to everything in the building. He couldn't even distinguish the smells - it was all just an overall  _good_ that permeated through the walls and in the carpet, the scents especially prominent on the various masseurs and masseuses that passed Dean in the hall.

When he arrived at Castiel's room, he knocked twice, bouncing on his toes. The door opened not two seconds later, a gruff "Come in" coming from behind the door. Dean waltzed into the room, admiring the skylight hanging directly over the white massage table. Towels hung on a rack on the left wall and a long cabinet sat directly beneath them. Dean could see a silver trolley covered in various bottles next to the table, one marked "Holy Oil". That was a little concerning.  _Is this guy religious or something?_

"Strip, then put on the towel."

Dean turned to face the man, this  _Castiel Novak,_ and found that he didn't just want to take his clothes off. No, he wanted Castiel to take off his clothes as well.

He had a mess of dark hair on top of his head, strands curving and swooping around like a brunet halo. The white scrubs he wore contrasted  _beautifully_ against tanned skin, Castiel's golden hands already rubbing together with oil. When he met Dean's eyes, Dean could clearly see that they were an electric blue, something almost supernaturally vibrant. The guy had a bit of stubble covering his face, sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. But once Dean got to the guy's lips, he just wanted to jump him (or have Cas jump him. Either way). Plush and pink, curving up in a small smile at Dean's obvious awe.

"You're not stripping, Mr. Winchester," his voice was like whiskey over gravel, voice getting smoother and more gentle as his tone grew deeper. 

Dean was suddenly self conscious, his own body freckled and a bit paler. He had a slight height advantage, but only an inch or two. Castiel looked far more toned than Dean, and Dean  _built cars for a living._ He spent his days lifting heavy shit and building muscle mass, but this Castiel guy - his arms were strong, and Dean could see the sharp jut of his shoulder blades when he turned back around to the oils. He knew, then, that there was no way he could leave this room without a prominent bulge in his pants. He swallowed, steeling himself and hopefully his libido.

He stepped out of his pants and boxers first, putting on the towel before the masseur could turn around and see him. Dean lifted his shirt over his head, taking a seat on the table and admiring the view of Castiel from this angle. He had nice, muscular legs and quite the ass - Dean wanted to hit that, in a nutshell. 

Castiel turned around, hands slightly shiny from the oil. "Lie down."

Dean decided he was going to go against Sam's advice and be a little cheeky to the guy. He was just doing a little flirting, no more than that. He settled back on the table on his back, casually letting his hands fall over his abdomen. Dean could hear a slightly exasperated sigh from the side of the table, turning his head to see Castiel adding a bit of the "Holy Oil" to his hands.

"On your back. I prefer to do any frontal massage at the end."

"Frontal? What?"

"Yes, frontal massage. I prefer the end, but we could do it now if you prefer," Castiel walked behind Dean, starting to rub into his shoulders gently with his thumbs. 

"Yeah - yeah, can we just... do that now?" Dean muttered the words, body already lax from Castiel's soothing touches. The oil felt slick and warm against his skin, scents of lavender and coconut and sage all mixing together in his head. 

Castiel moved on from just using the pads of his thumbs, stroking down Dean's biceps and tenderly working the muscles. Dean tried to ignore the tingle down his spine when Castiel rubbed a particularly sensitive spot near his neck, hoping to whatever gods were listening that he could keep himself under control. 

Castiel stroked near his neck again, Dean barely able to suppress a moan. He decided to try and make conversation - maybe that could take his mind off what other parts of his body he wanted Castiel to touch. 

"So, uh - what's with the Holy Oil?" Dean could barely speak; he was lost in Castiel's touch, long, soft fingers tenderly rubbing circles along the outside of his arms. 

"Holy Oil is a special mix of oils that I make. Some of the other masseurs thought it was holy because of the way it made my clients relax, and thus they gave it that name. Are you relaxed, Dean?"

"Oh, uhm... yeah. Yeah, definitely relaxed." They lapsed into a short period of silence, Dean finally agreeing to flip onto his stomach and for Castiel to begin the real massage. Dean stifled another sound, coughing once and speaking up again. 

"How do you know my name?"

"Sam told me. He is your brother, correct?" 

"Yeah," Dean couldn't help the soft sigh that escaped his mouth, the masseur's hands rubbing broad circles into his lower back. Castiel took his hands away for a moment, adding more oil to help the process. The cool sensation was a soothing contrast to Castiel's warm fingers tracing over his skin, stroking in long, deep lines along the middle of his back. He moved his arms down, using his thumbs to rub deep into Dean's lower back. Dean felt conflicted - he didn't know whether he wanted to get fucked by the guy or fall asleep with him, Castiel's warm arms wrapped around Dean and working the tension out of his shoulders with soft kisses. 

When Castiel pulled Dean's towel up on his legs, the first option stood out more. 

"Whoa, Cas, what're you-" Dean was so calm and light-feeling that he could barely muster up the energy to question Castiel. 

"I promised a full-body massage. For  _free._ So just relax, Dean."

Castiel began working on Dean's thighs, soft and barely defined. He was gentler on Dean's legs than he been anywhere else, softly stroking along his inner thigh and not pushing in too deep. Dean was terrified that Castiel would somehow figure out that Dean was having a very not-just-friendly reaction to his touches, but he stopped caring when Castiel simply moved further down his legs, continuing his ministrations. 

Once Castiel had finished up on Dean's legs, he moved back up to his shoulders and started rubbing in deep again, the force of the touch moving Dean up on the table. The ever-so-slight friction between his legs prompted a groan from the man; Dean was blushing as hard as humanly possible, fairly certain that all the blood in his body had rushed back north and into his cheeks. Castiel laughed behind him, a quiet sound that Dean immediately loved. 

"Enjoying yourself?"

Dean hummed in response, closing his eyes and willing the blush to go away. He felt a soft buzzing in his system, like he was just so flat-out  _content -_ all Dean wanted to was keep sprawling out on the table so Cas could work out all the kinks and sore spots in his body. But then Castiel pulled his hands away, grabbing Dean's ankles and tugging him back down, and  _there. There_ was that friction again, the soft press against his dick that Dean had been trying so hard to ignore. He brought a hand up, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow as he let a soft moan out of his mouth. 

_Please don't flip me over please don't flip me over please don't flip me over-_

"I'm going to flip you over, Dean. Sit up, please." 

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Dean got up, trying to bunch the towel around his front so that his hardness wouldn't be quite so noticeable. Apparently, though, the action just drew more attention to his groin, Castiel's eyes darting down and seeing Dean's futile attempt. Dean blushed again, positive that his entire face was bright red. He'd come for a massage, and he felt like he'd just been touched more lovingly and carefully than ever before. Dean met Castiel's eyes, realizing quickly that his pupils seemed dilated. The only light in the room came from the moonlight in the window on the ceiling and a single candle that had been lit in the corner. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean was breathless - Castiel was so close, heat radiating off his body.

"Would you like to go out to dinner after this?"

"After what?"

"This," Castiel said quietly, leaning forward and capturing Dean's lips in his own. 

Dean's brain short-circuited. Castiel's hands were  _everywhere,_ slipping over his skin with ease from the oils. His lips were open and hot against Dean's mouth, his tongue gently tracing the seam of Dean's lips. Castiel was an experienced kisser, apparently - he tilted his head just slightly, explored the heat of Dean's mouth in a way that didn't feel invasive; he felt  _curious._

Dean let his own tongue finally get into the action, sliding along Castiel's and eliciting a moan from the other man. Dean slipped a hand around to thread through the masseur's soft locks, tugging slightly so that they could break for air. Instead of taking a breath, though, Cas moaned again - the gentle tugging seemed to be getting him to Dean's level of debauchery quite fast. 

Castiel still stood against the side of the table, pressing his hips into the side as Dean sat on top of it. He scooted closer the edge of the table, wrapping his legs around Castiel's waist. Dean tugged the other man forward, groaning when their hips met. An erection matching Dean's own made sparks fly up his spine, body tingling with sensation as Castiel reached down to take the white towel away. Strong fingers quickly ripped the cloth away, tossing it on the floor as Cas gripped Dean's waist and pulled him closer. 

Dean broke away for air again, pushing his hands under Castiel's white shirt and tugging at the hem. He could feel the smooth muscles under his skin, Dean's fingers tracing absentmindedly across the ridges of his hipbones. Cas pulled off his own shirt, kissing Dean's cheek this time. It was a gentle gesture, such a sweet thing compared to everything else their bodies were doing; Dean's hips were rolling slowly against Castiel's body, hands now clutching around the masseur's shoulders as they both struggled to find a better angle. 

They both moaned in unison when Dean struck a particularly good spot, cocks rubbing together with just a thin layer of cloth between them. Dean pulled down Castiel's pants impatiently, immediately tracing the underside and smirking at the wanton moan that Cas let out. The masseur looked at Dean, pupils dark and lips kiss-bitten, and Dean thought he'd never seen someone sexier in his entire life. 

Castiel reached behind himself, grabbing the bottle of Holy Oil and letting the liquid run over his palm. He placed the bottle back on the small trolley, instead paying attention to slicking up their cocks. Dean moaned at the feeling of another person touching him, especially  _Cas_ touching him. They rubbed together, Castiel's hand loosely stroking along their bodies. Dean moaned as his grip grew tighter and faster, Dean leaning forward to kiss Castiel's exposed neck. He nipped at the skin, laving the area with his tongue before moving down to the man's collarbone. Dean felt a heat building in his body, sparks shooting up his spine as Cas moaned into his ear.  _  
_

When Castiel started softly kissing Dean's forehead and down his cheek, he felt a surge of _affection_ for the man - he'd known him for only a few hours, and yet he was trusting him enough to do this. Castiel leaned down, pace increasing and body tense, whispering into Dean's ear. 

"Come for me, Dean," his voice was soft and deep, and Dean couldn't deny the command. 

He came with a loud moan, Castiel following quickly after with a sigh. The two men pulled away from each other, gazes locking before Cas retrieved the towel and cleaned up, gently rubbing along Dean's stomach and chest. He walked away, putting the towel in the hamper and putting his shirt back on. Even fully clothed, Cas looked like he'd just fucked someone - hair a bigger mess, cheeks flushed with color, clothes rumpled and a lazy smile gracing his features. 

Grabbing his own t-shirt and jeans, Dean hurriedly dressed, hoping he didn't look  _quite_ as sexed-up as Cas did. After all, he was the one that'd have to leave through the crowded lobby  _and_ say goodbye to his younger brother. 

"So, uh... thank you. For, um - this? Everything." Dean stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Castiel nodded, giving him a soft smile with a hint of sadness.  _Why is he sad? We just - oh._

"And, uh - Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?" Castiel turned back from his small table, head tilted slightly to the side.

"Dinner would be... great. Yeah, dinner. I could, um, you said that-" Dean was cut off by Castiel's lips meeting his own, hot and sweet and goddamned wonderful. 

They left hand-in-hand, Dean giving Sam a wink as they headed out the door. He was still a little stressed, though - he'd just have to come back. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry for this mess  
> but thanks for reading it anyway, hope you enjoy this... thing  
> feedback is always appreciated~  
> i can't believe i wrote this  
> why


End file.
